


On The Reappearance  of Gold Crown Town

by spoke



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23216728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/pseuds/spoke
Relationships: Ahiru | Duck/Fakir (Princess Tutu)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Worldbuilding Exchange 2020





	On The Reappearance  of Gold Crown Town

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spacecadet72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecadet72/gifts).



Emma was by an impressive gate waiting for him when he finally arrived. The thing stretched towards the sky, taller than any gate guarding some random town in the middle of nowhere had any business being, and it made his skin crawl. When he drew level with her (and he noticed his horse seemed a bit skittish about that) he gestured up at it. “What is that about? I really hope you know.” 

Her unimpressed look hadn’t changed, which was a nice note of familiarity to start off on. “So you know I was sent here about five months ago, yeah? When this place suddenly appeared on the maps.” 

He nodded, but the question set him on edge immediately, because it was important to get the details straight when you might be dealing with a Writer.

The tension drained just that bit out of Emma’s shoulders. “If it hadn’t been for this glimmering shadow around the gate, I’d never have noticed. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, it’s as if the story ended? But it’s also continuing somewhere. Somewhere in the air above the town, apparently.” 

“I thought you just went looking for one of the branches of the Old Oak?” He asked as he got off the horse. It was calming down, there was that… “I thought headquarters agreed it was the mostly likely explanation, an old remnant or something coming up?” 

They both nodded, because usually that was all it was – some fragment of an old story, blooming like a flower or a shoot, and then dying because there wasn’t enough story to maintain it. It wasn’t common, but it happened, and the best thing was to keep people out so no one died when the place vanished again.

Well. It was assumed they were dead. There’d never been a case of them being heard from again.

But Emma shook her head as she continued, glancing briefly at the tower of a gate. “Yeah, interesting thing about that - apparently they had a whole tree. An actual damn tree, no one seems to have properly appreciated what it was, and they cut it down? But, you know, that really does nothing to sever the connection if a Writer’s good enough, and here’s a horror story - they’ve had two in living memory. One of them was a truly nasty piece of work, as well. Also there’s disturbing evidence of at least one even further back, the equipment the older recorded individual was using is frankly ancient...” 

“Two?! Are you f- are you serious?” 

“Oh yeah,” she grinned fiercely, “one of ‘em’s still alive, even.” 

He felt like he was about to explode. “And you’re just standing there, telling me this, instead of evacuating this place and containing the Writer, because..?” She didn’t act like someone who’d been compromised, or he’d already have turned around. But this was such a damn stupid thing to be doing! 

“Because he refuses to use the power on anything except this duck!” At which point Emma lost whatever control she’d had on the subject and broke out laughing. If they hadn’t known each other for seven years, he’d have just gone ahead and knocked her unconscious and they could talk about it out of the Writer’s sphere of influence. But he knew her, honesty and sense of humor both, and it was all too typically Emma for him to be that worried. 

When she finally got control of herself, she continued in as even a tone as she could manage, but he could tell it wasn’t easy. “So. Let me tell you about a young Writer named Fakir, the story he grew up in, and the actual duck that came into their lives and changed everything.” 

“Ooookay. But we’re still not doing it within earshot of the gates of that place.” Mark said, and turned around to lead the horse back to a clearing he’d noticed on the way. It had the reassuring messy feeling of a natural place, not that manicured neatness that screamed ‘woodland setting for a scene’. 

“Yeah, he seems a pretty decent sort, but you never know with an untrained Writer… and do not mess with the duck, by the way. She’s actually wonderful, in any case, but he’s ..attached.” Emma noticed his expression and frowned. “Not like that, she was a girl for most of the story. Well, most of the time anyway.” 

Mark shook his head, frowning as he nudged them both away from some poison ivy. Nice in that it wasn’t generally a thing in one of the friendlier stories, but this entire conversation was starting to get him spooked. He’d be just as glad when they got away from the entire mess, really. “So what kind of story are we looking at here? From what you’ve said, she doesn’t sound like a seal wife, but..”

Emma was shaking her head when he turned around from getting a blanket off the pack. “No, if anything it’s almost as if she’s a bit of a Writer herself? Mark, this has been going on for years, maybe decades. We’re going to need all kinds of work here. Duck and Fakir are most definitely their own story. Nevermind the girl Rue.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Do you know how often animals have been Writers? Offhand I can think of Coyote in North America, we suspect an orca over there too…” Mark shook his head, settling wearily on the blanket. “This is going to make things so much more complicated.” 

“No, Duck really isn’t a problem. Fakir might be if he ever decided to, but he really takes his cues from Duck and she just wants to go back to being a girl and learning ballet.”  
“The Duck. Wants to learn ballet.” He stared, hoping his expression was doing justice to his confusion.

She just grinned. “Ballet is very important in this town! So. I don’t suppose you ever heard of a Writer named Drosselmeyer?” 

“Sounds vaguely familiar? But I don’t remember any specifics.” 

“I don’t think we ever had very much information on him, because a very early group calling themselves the Book Men were supposed to have killed him, shortly before the town vanished. Except it turns out they hadn’t..” 

As Emma continued talking, Mark started to have the feeling it was going to be a long story before he got to the point where he was ready to go back in the town. But he was already starting to want to meet Duck.


End file.
